This Week in Milford

September 23, 2019

Ease Up, Ballard

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The theme of the fall plot so far is: Chet Gotta Chet.

Today we see him camped out on the front porch, waiting to grill Charlie about football practice. (Maybe that’s a rear entrance with a sliding glass door? It seems like a wide opening for a standard door. Look at all those parallel lines: flooring, siding, a multi tiered tiled deck. That’s some serious drafting. Yes, the architectural details are more arresting than the third or fourth occurrence of Chet Ballard’s overbearing parenting.)

I don’t know anything about high school football practice. I always pictured it as a lot of jumping jacks, running and other conditioning, maybe throw in some drills. Y’all are going to have to enlighten me. Of course there must be scrimmaging too with starters getting more reps than back ups. That seems more like a professional thing that can be picked apart all week by the 900 gossipy shows on ESPN. “Eli’s not getting the bulk of reps in practice and he’s sulking in his Porsche!!”

What is revealed is that Charlie is not just ambivalent toward Chet. He’s kind of over it. Maybe he should have a chat with his mom.

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September 21, 2019

Talk to the Hands, Maybe

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Chance Macy: introvert, or just antisocial?

Bob “Kaz” Kazinski: actual coach, or Gil’s Boy Friday?

Gil “Gil” Thorp: protective of his players, or control freak media manipulator?

Hey, Rubin can write a cryptic strip, why can’t we post cryptic blog posts?

At least the Chief can indulge his hand fetish illustrating this little tête-à-tête. Either Gil has six fingers on his left hand or one of them’s his thumb peeking from between the others. Both Gil and Kaz look to have overdeveloped right hands, IYKWIMAITYD.

 

 

September 17, 2019

Is He Not Able To See Them Through The Window?

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P1: As a school board member, our man Chet has shown nothing more than he collapses like a house of cards in a gentle breeze.

P2: Hey, do you notice how none of the other adults at the Schurings’ party seem to be talking to the Ballard-Roh family?

P3: Chet’s face is so adorable when he gets all pissy, who can blame Charlie’s mom for giving a little tickle under the chin?

Bonus question: What is it that Thorp’s presence is intended to deter?

I made this point in the comments yesterday but it sure is a shame how we’ve gone from thrilling actual action on the old gridiron to people talking about things they’re not going to do.

August 27, 2019

P4:” You Wade In The Kiddie Pool Of Journalism And Your Mother Drives A Pickle Wagon.”

Filed under: exposition comics, football, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Marty Moon, Pissy faced Gil — tdrewhardin @ 2:44 am

082719

There I feel better.

Oh, yeah, that’s right, we’re talking Gil and Marty. Well, shut my mouth with some crumbs of corn pone that fell off the table at the First Annual Mudlark Kick-off Tailgate Luncheon that’s been alternating with football practice that’s been going on for about 2 weeks. Marty is back.

I could maybe understand Marty not participating in the festivities, given Marty’s propensity to not sleep with the enemy. Marty indulging in a sloppy joe while stabbing Gil in the back with a butcher knife just seems out of place, even by Marty standards. Gobble that Steak ‘n’ Shake Sirloin Cheeseburger With a Side Order of Cheese Fries, washing it down with an icy-cold Mudlar-K-Cola Pepper Pop (to avoid copyright issues with Dr. Pepper, you understand) , then quoting that Gil’s secondary eats jelly beans just might make Marty a little too sleazy. Which probably explains why Mr. Moon showed up after Sam Finn got carted off in the pickle wagon.

I can see that.

“Well, looks like they’re done pumping Finn. What the Hell did he eat? Is that bagel and lox I see on the ground? What kind of a tailgate luncheon are we running around here? Spinach Quicheburgers? In this heat? Time to spring into action.”

Enter Marty.

Post-tailgate fellowships will never be the same.

 

Cheryl Fox, you represent America. While interviewing for disabilty yesterday, you very patient, knowledgable, and professional. Hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio and as a service representative for Humana, you love your job and you love helping other people. And you do it with a smile. Many people could learn from Cheryl’s example about what it takes to make America great. Many times, you gotta put your nose to the grindstone, which you’ve done as a bus driver for several years or as a keen phone service representaive with a lot of savvy, backed by an understanding of human nature. Gang, if you see her, treat her with respect. I salute you, Cheryl. We need more like you.

 

Really, I was just making an off-hand joke, not really intending to go anywhere with it. Doesn’t THAT sound like a familiar theme in Thorpiverse.

But with all the blockin’ and tacklin’ and munchin’ and crunchin’ and faintin’ and caterwaulin’ and threatenin’ law suits, this is a sudden turn of events that’s gotten me a tad suspicious.

Did Marty sneak out from under the tackling dummy when they were done with a slightly-ill-advised picnic? What was he hoping to find? Kids weren’t eating their vegetables? Gil wasn’t using a fork when scooping the macaroni salad? The coke canister exploded and they had to wipe off several uniforms with dish towels when they weren’t calling 9-1-1 about the casualties?

“Nothing major. Everybody go back to their seats and enjoy the chicken nuggets. The ambulance just made its last trip. The EMT said most of ’em should be OK.”

 

If Marty is to dig up any dung, he’ll do it as a GI Joe Action figure as in P1. He and Gil are engaged in mortal combat, well, at least in a war of wits. This is an annual event us Thorpiverse fans relish every year. Just kick back in the Broyhill recliner, put the popcorn on the TV tray, pop the VCR with the remote, and enjoy. Hey, your VCR is another TV, right? Or so the VCR instruction manual says when you first set it up? Then it’s like watching a Rambo doll kick-boxing with The Riddler doll through not one but TWO TV’S!!!!!!!!!!!!! In front of the Land of the Gigantic Offensive Linemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Entertainment at its finest. To think, some of you were going to the Milford Majestic on 1/2 Price Seating Night to go watch “Puking from Too Much Mustard on the Planet of the Apes!!!!!!”.

 

Because the amphitheater I pass every night might want to consider updating its matrix board after seeing Death Cab for Cutie scheduled for July 7th, much as I like the group

 

Today’ headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Suing Milford Outdoor Amphitheater Concerning Slim Whitman’s ‘Night Of Memories In England’ Tour!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I had no idea the dude was dead; I’m lettin’ Cochrane handle the refund application procedure. I’m willin’ to settle out-of-court.”

 

While I’m letting my stomach settle from the Beans ‘n’ Cornbread Fellowship sponsored by the Milford Football Parents Booster Club (dues are only $25 every year, free food and an 8 x 11 portrait of Gil in the raw, suitable for framing) , I’m a little perplexed.

What does he mean by battling at a few positions? I guess there’s not much competition at long snapper, not that I’m expecting kids meeting out in the parking lot after practice, duking it out for the guts and the glory of this particular sentry post.

And some of you think Gil might have quarterback on his mind when discussing the battles where there ARE battles at some of the spots. Ahhhhh, careful. One year, a couple of quarterbacks went down and they had to resort to Milford High’s chess champion who also had a serious heart condition, Darren McBride. So as long as Gil is speaking in vague generalities, you’ll just have to use your imagination. Now the silver lining in the black cloud of Gil’s laying bare his ambiguities with Marty is that I think Gil has the players ON THE FIELD in mind when talking up the lack of competition at certain spots. I can say without fear of contradiction that the water boy’s job is safe for another year. And Rick Scott will not have to look over his shoulder for any comers who dare amble from the parking lot with a medical bag in hand. Rick can breathe easier and buy another pair of jeans. He’s got the job security, what the hay?

 

And do I dare say it? Gals, you better clutch your boyfriend if he’s nearby. Everybody else grab the nearest bleacher or lawn chair, if you have one handy.

 

Marty has a point.

OMIGOD, THE SKY IS FALLING, QUICK, COVER THE SALISBURY STEAK, USE THAT REYNOLDS FOIL TO PROTECT THE AMISH POTAT-

Usually, when Marty comes to call AT ANY TIME, particularly in the Fall, it’s not good news. His rapier wit just grates our nerves and you want to dump the bowl of 3 bean salad on his head. If the team is looking at an awful year because the entire defensive line graduated and went to Milford Vocational & Technical Institute to major in Bowling Pinspotting Mechanics, Marty is sure to be the resident buzzard and feed off the roadkill. Nothing like sticking a few more ginsu knives in Gil’s already-stale Swedish meatballs.

This time, Marty is hard-hitting but within the parameters, only asking what is becoming somewhat obvious. It didn’t help Gil that the ambulance drove away with a casualty and depleted his roster even more. Marty has artillery.

It’s just that Marty might have to turn in his WDIG certification if he continues to practice journalism ethics while negotiating with his nemesis. And speaking of nemesis, is it really necessary to portray Gil as the second cousin of Dr. No? We’re still recovering from Marty’s reform movement. One day at a time.

 

If ya gotta go to the hospital cuz ya swallow’d the whole durn Betty Crocker Dutch Choklit cake and washed it down with a case of Bud at the Milford Foundry 167th Annual Company Picnic and the EMT’s gotta have 23 yuk buckets to pump ya in the ambulance on th’ way ta Milford General, ya might be a redneck.

 

Ooooooookkkkkkk, time to bring sanity to this God-forsaken-plot-in-the-making. Gene Rayburn is back with a vengeance. Take the stage, Gene

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought the 385th Annual Mudlark Chew-and-Grind Pre-Pigskin Picnic was held on ____________.”

 

Come to think of it, Waylon Jenning’s grandson interviewing Dr. No’s illigetimate child might be a deadly combination for a potential plot in football. It’s getting off on the right foot in P2, give it a chance.

In the interim, Gil is enjoying a Foghorn Leghorn Moment in P3, leastwise, it’s hard to imagine Gil directing that comment at Joey Tribbiani and Chandler Bing over by the Boston Baked Beans tray. Even if they and the rest of the Friends cast enjoy food, football, and fellowship, that doesn’t make them shallow. Gotta stick it on Marty, Foghorn. Do not waste a funny on a show that is hilarious and often makes fun of what is serious in Thorpiverse.

Even if it was a cheap laugh. Hey, it got a chuckle out of me. I choked on my cole slaw.

 

RRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHH

BBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

UUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPCCCCCCCHHHHHHUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK

“No question, I was a hurt puppy that day. The Milford IGA had smuggled in kangaroo meat from Australia and tried to sell it to the Mudlark Football Parents Booster Club as Big Mac’s. Luckily, one of the split ends fighting another split end for his job and his turkey giblets saw the label on the ground and got the truth.”

“Hi, this is The Shark with Joe Sharkey Law Offices. I couldn’t believe my ears when Sam Finn told me he had devoured the whole plate of burgers illegally imported on the Mayflower and took a detour following Magellan’s route to finally deliver unrefrigerated kangaroo meat, having trekked several twists and turns and neap tides from the Brisbane slaughterhouse to Mudlark Practice Field property. They could have at least gone half on the duty.

What added insult to injury was Mr. Finn then had to run the steps at the stadium. Going up and down the steps with a dead cow strapped on you as a dead weight might make you faster but in the humidity he was exposed to, he was a sitting duck for bursitis, malaria, whooping cough, turf toe, hepatitis, and athlete’foot.”

“I got a check from Milford IGA for 6.03 × 10v23 dollars. I remember the amount because I memorized Avogadro’s Number when Ms. Rizk was getting boring. I can save up for college and I was able to pay for the Pepto-Bismol 100-pak at Milford Emergency Clinic. And I can afford limo service to practice, Mom doesn’t have to rush from work at the Milford Toyota Plant to take me to practice. Thanks, Shark.”

“There you have it. If you ate the wrong salad and the soy milk tasted a little funny, call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today and get piece of mind when you get food poisoning from rigatoni. Insurance companies are working to protect their ass from paying out claims from an idle piece of carrot cake and keeping the food industry in the clear. Fight back with an attorney who knows his way around the block when fighting company picnic suppliers. One call, that’s all.”

Go for it, Gang. I gotta go to the Milford Clinic and get treated for trauma. Mixing Marty and decency was like adding water to acid. Add acid to water if ya don’t wanna splatter.

 

“So ya think McBride can settle the issue at QB after he’s taken a couple of Rolaids?”

“These inane questions are testing my patience, Mr. Bond. I can insert a Sun Yat-Sen flunky at the position in my quest for world domination.”

 

 

On a Rolaids commercial

“Gil, how do you spell ‘relief’?”

“R-O-L-L-U-P-T-H-E-D-I-N-N-E-R-R-O-L-L-S.”

 

 

August 17, 2019

Oh Yeah? Jump On This!

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Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Ed is neither the express nor implied racist we suspected him to be (or, at least, he’s not gonna cop to that). Neither is he really that concerned about Jaquan’s post-NBA career. He just wanted baby girl to come home and join/take over his practice. I mean, why should the Foley Law Group beat him to the punch? With that, Ed V. Baxendale joins the pantheon of Milford parents living vicariously through the lives of their children (if not outright preordaining their career paths via their names).

Kinda funny we haven’t seen Gil in the strip for a couple of weeks. Hope he’s watching more of Joe Bolek’s game film. He’d better keep Hadley on speed dial for the next time he needs to intimidate the lawyerless school board, or game the system to recruit outside talent.

Finally, it wouldn’t be a Gil Thorp arc-ending strip without some kind of lame joke and a freeze-frame ending. Good thing Jaquan got Luther, The Anger Translator to stand in for him.

August 12, 2019

Chet

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I love these green suits on Ed Baxendale and Chet Ballard. Yes, we finally know Ballard’s first name. He’s Chet Ballard of Ballard Insurance and lime green suits are his thing.

Chet’s looking for an easy way out of this pickle. Since he’s apparently chummy with Ed (they share a haberdasher) he’s thinking maybe Ed can put a muzzle on his daughter. Geez, give it up Chet. You got caught doing your job poorly and now you’re just digging a deeper hole. Plus, we know from one of the other boring digressions of this summer plot that Ed has little sway over Hadley. (I’m still not sure what Ed is doing here.)

Chet’s suit color reminded me of the Plymouth Duster on the cover of The Cars Heartbeat City Album:

Cars-Heartbeat-City-1983-Cover-1

I just learned that this piece of art is called Art-O-Matic Loop Di Loop and it was created in 1972 by Peter Phillips.

 

 

 

August 5, 2019

Jorts Law

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What the hell is going on here??

If they are going to decide Tiki’s case, they need to apply their policy. The decision and the policy are both subject to challenge, whether they do it in public or not. I guess these guys are just amateurs and they don’t grasp this, or they just aren’t used to Chicago lawyers getting up in their business. Tank townies just bend to their will and Ballard gets paid to be on the school board just by making calls from the offices of Ballard Insurance while Carol calls a meeting once in a while.

What a shit show.

 

July 30, 2019

Wow, I Could Have Had A V8 And Gone To Harvard Law School!!!!

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Mudlark Heaven is the place for me

Playin’ for Coach Thorp just relaxes me

That hair, combed and moussed so far and wide

Keep New Thayer, just gimme ol’ Milford High

 

Newwwwww Thayer is vere yoo need tooo stay

Veee get allergic vith zeeeee condo vayysssss

Veeee hate Hadley und her outhouse views

Dah-ling, veee love yoo but move to Park Avenue

 

So I’m a little mystified at who the Flemings might be so today’s theme will carry a Nick at Nite flavor to it. Just be patient, it will all come out in the wash. I’m not too sure about the story but I have no control over that. You’ll have to go down to the Home Office for Thorpiverse if you want to complain.

And the first item on the agenda right outta the gate HAS to be the choice of imbibing combinations we are observing in P1. Okay, okay, we are finally informed in P2 that it’s iced tea but that Folger’s heating up in the background is enough of a double-reverse to allow my imagination to run wild. I’ll run the gamut from Nestle’s Quik to Fresca out of the fridge to Minute Maid No-Squeeze Pulp-Free Deloused-Tangelos Orange Juice. Pouring out of a 1-gallon beaker is only intensifying the guessing game. We don’t see them but I’m bettin’ the deposition that Hadley Vitriolic possesses in her hand and in her purse under the Kleenex and crammed up her butt that Jaquan has a couple of Erlenmeyer flasks on the counter somewhere. Really no need to show that they’re filled to the brim with Hawaiian Punch and Kiwi Kool-aid. Thorpiverse was willing to let your imagination run wild but they’re there. Rest assured.

And if filling half the collection of plastic cups with Squoze Drink Mix wasn’t enough, Again, Jaquan has the Mr. Coffee contraption a-brewin’ for good measure. If he dies of thirst after all the trouble, he must have sewn his mouth shut. I know reading Law 333 can be intense and you need to do more listening and reading than talking but this is ridiculous.

“Missss-ter Case, why are you sit-ting in your seat with that my-ri-ad bun-dle of strings attached to your embouchment?”

“Well, you see, Kingsfield, he just feels that if you want to learn law, you should come with your ears open and your mouth sewn shut.”

“I see. Today’s lesson covers Property Law in relation to damages…”

Stating the obvious

After a teacher somewhere in England is prosecuted for having sex with 4 teenaged students

“I’m going to go to prison for this.”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Ms. Risk Cleared Of Charges After Accusations Of Improper Behavior With Bobby Howry And Tiki Jansen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’m in my room with my typewriter all day. Luhm brings me lunch at 9:00PM, but that’s it!!!!!!!!!!”

 

At Donna Stone’s residence

“Dr. Stone, I know you have Boy Scout Jamboree, Cancer Research Seminar, Jeff’s golf match at Hilldale Country Club against the Mudlarks, and Mrs. Stone’s Bake-Off at The Bucket all in one night but you are being subpoenaed to the Milford Superior Court.”

“Donna, can’t you slip out one the Bake-Off is over? You’re a cinch to win the Frosting portion of the competition anyway.”

“Well, I think I can beat Mimi at her own game and then head on to the School Board meeting. Mimi uses generic flour on all her Dutch chocolate and coconut cakes. I’m not worried. BTW, Alex, where is that smoke coming from?”

“It’s coming from next door!!!!!!!!!!! My goodness, did Jaquan forget to turn off the Mr. Coffee machine again?”

Is Jaquan borrowing the Thorps’ verandah even as I type? You know tyhe old saying, when Gil’s away, the mice will play. Leaving the possibilities for another time, I have finally deduced that those are Hi-liters, not bullet shells on the table there. Doubtin’ that Jaquan pursued an early morning fox hunt before he curled up with a tome on international law. He’s just trying to get smarter, Gang. Nothing like being prepared for Fall.

Gang, I apologize, Mom came to town and She’s done A LOT for me and sacrificed A LOT for me and I couldn’t turn her away. The material is coming, trust me. Thanks for your patience.

 

“Sittin’ in Gil’s chair reading parliamentary law

Waitin’ for Fall class to begin

Birds are dropping on page 1-0-3

Woe is me

Find another tree…”

 

The inspiration for “Venus & Mars Rock Show”. Who’da thunk it. And really, it all started when he poured a cartoon-duration (i.e., Fred Flintstone never spills over the table and hits the saber-tooth cat or Dino when he’s pouring brontosaurus milk on his Fruity Pebbles) length of Nestea in his ULINE cup. The man has talent. He’ll have tenure before the next election at that rate.
Now if he can find another catalpa tree without a bird’s nest, he’s in business.

 

At Sanford & Son’s junkyard

“Mr. Sanford, you’re going to have to go to court to state why Tiki must go back to Rockville when he already lives in Rockville.”

“Hush yo’ mouth. I ain’t gonna go to no judge an’ tel’ him that Tiki kin stay wher’ he’s at. There’s laws statin’ he’s just as good as his hometown. Tha’s final, I ain’t gonna put my John Henry on nuttin'”

“Aw, come on, Pop. Them kids beat him to a pulp and all he’s trying to do is make a better life for himself. Right, Hadley Virtueless?”

“I’m afraid so. If I have to get a court order, I will. I suggest you make this easy on yourself, Mr. Sanford.”

“Yeah, Fred, you miserable jackass. What’d dat kid evuh do to you? Steal one of yore hubcaps? It’s bad enough you lost yore shirt tryin’ to cut a deal wid Gil and Mimi haulin’ their trash away. Like wut were ya gonna do wid dat aquarium they wuz throwin’ out? Build a swimmin’ pool by da trash compactor in yore back yard?”

“Esther, if I did, I wouldn’t put a shark in there wid yore dentures. Charlie the Tuna would eat ol’ Jaws alive.”

“Fred, if you don’t sign dat dere paper, I is gonna knock you out wid my Bible. If I can belt 10 muggers on a subway cold dead, you KNOW what it’ll do wid YOU!!!!!!!”

“Plus you’ll have a bench warrant AND a black eye. Now sign this paper.”

“You hear dat, Elizabeth? Dis is da Big One!!!!!!!! I’m bein’ blackmailed!!!!!!!!”

“Awwww, shut up, Pop. Sign the document and let’s go. Coach Kaz is paying us nicely for towing his Volkswagen Jetta off his property. But we got a half an hour before he goes on vacation. We better get his check NOW or we’re cooked, Man. Here’s a pen.”

 

Today’s Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared Of Molestation Charges At Milford High School!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was just in the gym rehearsing ELO’s ‘All Over The World’!!!!!!!!!!”

“Look after Jaquan. See that some harm is done to him.”

I don’t think Hugo Drax will be successful if Jaws’ cousin in P2 (NOT the animal, you ninnies) continues to sport notebooks that for once look like notebooks, not the See Spot Run rudimentary loose-leaf cigarette packs we’re used to seeing.

“See Dick read Bel-Air. It says “Warning: Smoking has been found in the labs to be hazardous to the fetus-”

‘Dick, you dumbass’, says Jane, ‘That’s a notebook. Mom says so. Right now look at Spot. See Spot chew up notebook. He thinks it’s a Milk Bone.’

‘Then who’s ‘Marlboro Man”? asks Dick.

‘He’s a BAD man,’ says Jane. ‘His treachery is worth 100 loose-leafs. Or 50 Marty Moons if you’re counting in Eurodollars.’

‘Who’s Marty Moon?’, asks Dick.

‘Wait until we get to page 15 and see Spot attack a donkey’, says Jane.”

 

If ya gotta go to court after the lawyer went ta see the Brady Bunch and Ozzie and Harriet Nelson and Larry the Cable Guy and Eight is Enough becuz ya gotta testify against yore best friend after he got arrested for Drunk and Disorderly Conduct at a T-Ball game at Milford Sports Complex includin’ peein’ on home plate before the kiddies started infield practice, ya might be a redneck.

And what in the name of Ricky Nelson is up with the verandah design in P2? Is this an infinite convergent pattern that will reach the asymptote (or NOT reach it, really) somewhere by the Milford Water Tower? God, no wonder why Jaws’ one leg is shorter than the other. Make yourself at home, Jaquan. While your one leg is stuck in the sewer line, your other one should stretch TO New Thayer. Looks like a winning case to me. Gotta get there and back if ya wanna live to tell about it. Just stand up and do the 7th-inning stretch and things oughta go off without a hitch.

 

At the Cleaver residence

“Ward, do you think Beaver should go before a judge? It might be a little daunting.”

“Nonsense, June. It’ll teach him responsibility. He needs to learn to tell the truth under oath after witnessing Lumpy Rutherford and Eddie Haskell throwing eggs at Gil’s ranch house.”

“I agree, Mr. Cleaver. If Beaver will sign right here next to the Ballard Insurance policy, we’re good to go.”

“Gosh, Beaver, don’t be a dope and sign the wrong paper. Dad doesn’t need any coverage for his Harley. He already has one with Milford State Farm Insurance.”

 

And that is a pre-cursor into P3. God, this is just opening itself for abuse.

“Let me discuss the matter with my partner.”

“I don’t know, Chico. You might want to ask The Man first before the ink dries.”

No

Well, Hell, Hadley Verdure was the only female in the living room but still believe Thorpiverse keeps it heterosexual, although allowing for strong possibilities for same-sex marriage to thrive in Milford

Who in the world are all these people that Thorpiverse keeps throwing at us? It’s bad enough that I thought that the dude to the left was putting on his Ninja outfit but hard to imagine his doing that in front of ANYONE, much less Hadley Valley Tech. I now know that he is crossing his leg. getting your eyes adjusted will do that.

We STILL have the issue of going from Kenny Rogers to Nancy Kulp to today’s Chico & The Man  with the unfortunate sidenote that this reads more like an Anne Tyler novel than a sports plot. Really, when I read the sports scoreboard, I’m not expecting to see the entire story of “The Accidental Tourist” next to the bowling scores but that’s pretty much the long and tall of it. Maybe one day Thorpiverse will quit reading V. C. Andrews and publish REAL sports. Gil posing with his putter is a good start. It might be a long way from Putt-Putt to football scrimmage but remember, you only chew an elephant one bite at a time.

BTW, I’d like that lamp in Mr. Fleming’s living room. I’ve been wanting to revamp my household with a neo-Art Deco atmosphere. Name your price, Mr. Fleming.

 

All righty then, Gang. It’s your turn. I’m going to join in the conversation in P3. I thought it was awful nice for Mr. Fleming to treat everybody to pterodactyl eggs and show everybody his stick figure drawings that he’s got on the coffee table. That should lighten the mood. Just gotta watch the egg count. My doctor said watch the cholestrerol.

 

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Bull shit”

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Just qvit”

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Football”

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Don’t stall”

 

“I say he stays”

“It looks zat vay”

“In Fall he will be therrreeeeee”

As Eddie Albert stomps his pitchfork for extra emphasis on Ballard’s toe. Green Acres, Green Suit, life couldn’t be greener. Shouldn’t extend to Ballard’s teeth but Thorpiverse never told Ballard to say “Ah”, maybe because the face would collapse if he did. Darn, we’ll never know.

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